


The suit fits (Clara loves you, Child soilder.)

by theseus_my_beloved



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Author Projecting onto TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Bad Brother Wilbur Soot, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), I'm Bad At Tagging, Insane Wilbur Soot, Mentioned Dream SMP Ensemble, Mentioned Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Runaway TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), happy ending??? maybe???, i mean the happy ending is mentioned, its hinted at tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29888535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseus_my_beloved/pseuds/theseus_my_beloved
Summary: Tommy reflects on Wilbur, the SMP and visits an old friend.
Relationships: Justin | TimeDeo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 13
Kudos: 95





	The suit fits (Clara loves you, Child soilder.)

Tommy sighed. 

  
Muscle memory failed him as the air seemed harder to breathe in. Wasn't breathing normal? Why was the universe stopping him? 

  
Tommy looks to the sky yet again as the stars come down on him. As Clara begged and prayed for his safety although it was in her hands. Clara is a hypocrite, Tommy decides.

  
As Clara buries his body in snow and carves a spot in the afterlife just for him. Because if the universe loved him, Clara adored him. 

  
As Clara's cold fingertips meet Tommy's burnt face. Cold wind wipes his tears. Tommy wants more than anything for it to be the goddess in the sky, wiping his tears.

  
But he's alone. 

  
He's alone in his summer house as spring approaches. 

  
Spring promises the same warmth of campfires and drug vans, of life before discs and duels. With Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo. Before "Fuck Eret" was written into the song.

  
Tommy touches the scar on his chest. Bitter patriotism fills his chest and veins. He was born in L'Manburg's blood, He rose from TNT and guitar strings. He rose from Dream's terrorism and Wilbur's insanity. Oh, How he wishes he never gave up his embassy for L'Manburg.

  
The uniform was made for a child. 

  
Tommy wants so desperately for it not to fit. 

  
But he hasn't grown since the suit with the "BB" pin on it.

  
Oh, How he desperately wants too go back. 

  
To simple wars that waged no lives and begging for a title he was too small for. 

  
"Alpha Male."

  
He sounded like a child.

  
Something tells him he still is one. 

  
_Someone_ tells him he still is one. 

  
He ignores their comfort. He ignores their calls for blood. For family, For freedom. He should tell them he's sorry. 

  
He wants to leave the server. 

  
He knows he can't. Dream said so himself, that he can't leave the server. He brought attachments, He brought rebellion. He reaps what he sows.

  
He sowed challenge and pride into the very fabric of the SMP long before he sowed the fabric of L'Manburg's very first flag. 

  
He remembers when he sowed that damn flag. 

  
He remembers constantly pricking his fingertips with the damn needle. Wilbur had showed him how to sow. He remembers having some design choices. He remembers Wilbur laughing and guiding his hands. Wilbur had set down the bright uniform to help him with the flag.

  
He remembers Wilbur calling him "Darling" when he bled over the flag. (He called him "Darling" when he bled for L'Manburg again and again. Even after his duel.) Him taking the needle and sending him off to play with Tubbo.

  
"Go play with Tubbo, Darling. I'll finish this damn flag."

  
Tommy, now, wonders where that Wilbur had gone. Where he is now. 

  
He wants Wilbur back. Not that Wilbur that was in the afterlife, mad and insane with no control. Not the Wilbur who had died with a sword driven through him. Not the Wilbur with a his brown coat and lungs filled with tar. He wants his Wilbur back.

  
Not the Wilbur he knew he would meet if he died again. He knows what he's like now.

  
He wishes for exile rather than Wilbur. He knows he shouldn't even wish for Dream but Dream himself seemed like the lesser of two evils. Oh, How he fell for Wilbur's propaganda. 

  
He feels lied too.

  
He cries. 

  
He didn't cry when Wilbur left. He would never cry for Phil's mistakes.

  
He didn't cry when Dream beat him to death. He would never give him that satisfaction.

  
He didn't cry, even of relief, when Sam let him out of the prison. It was his job. He had too. Tommy cried he realized he fell, yet again, for familial propaganda. He doesn't know Sam's motive, He wishes he did.

  
He didn't cry when he was finally reunited with Sam Nook and his hotel. He loved the man, he just never saw the point of crying for cogs and wires.

  
But when Tommy finds Wilbur's coat. He cries.

  
He cries over the disgusting, familiar scent of cigarettes and TNT. It all smells of harsh smoke. It smells of what Wilbur described as London and blood.

  
He cries over the pack of cigars Wilbur never finished.

  
He cries over every detail, every piece of history this one coat holds. 

  
He cries harder over the sloppy, stitched hole in the back. 

  
Vaguely, He hopes Wilbur was there. His Wilbur. Not the Wil this coat belonged too. He wished his Wilbur was there to call him darling and scratch his hair, to call him a child and to cheer him up. 

  
He wants the uncomfortable itching emptiness to be soothed by Wilbur's comfort. Wilbur's comfort always was able to seep into his skin and tame him from the inside out. 

  
"I guess hugs and kisses do that to you? Huh?" 

  
He cries harder. From the memory or the phantom pain the scar on his chest, he doesn't know. 

  
Wilbur wanted him to know his life was worth more than the revolution. Drug vans and politics could never compare to a childs life, let alone Tommy's. 

  
Tommy had brought life to the revolution. He was the propaganda that Wilbur pushed along with the freedom and the drugs. L'Manburg and Wilbur was sowed with propaganda and a false sense of family. Oh, How Tommy fell for his lies. He fell for everything Wilbur stood for, yet he payed the price. He payed in his blood, 2 or 3 lives, and his sanity. 

  
He's not going to lie, Every person he knew seemed to have their own propaganda for his loyalty. His Loyalty. Not him. They want a child soldier, not a brother, friend or a vice president. The person who was honest to him the most was Dream. Fucking Dream. 

  
"-The violence, The terrorism, You may go a little too far sometimes but you could actually be useful. You could be, dare I say, a friend.-"

  
He knew the truth.

  
"My first degree, as the President of L'Manburg, EMPEROR of this GREAT NATION! IS TOO REVOKE! THE CITIZENSHIP OF WILBUR SOOT AND TOMMYINNIT." 

  
He noticed the "Schlatt Stan" comments stopped when he went to MineCraft Championships. He was thankful. 

  
"I'm sorry, Tommy." 

  
Tommy was sure Tubbo noticed he could never look him in the eyes. How their conversations were shorter. He hopes Tubbo didn't care. 

  
"Let's be the bad guys."

  
Goodbye, Wilbur. 

  
**_TommyInnit has left the game._ **

  
Somewhere, a man with a red hat and sunglasses recives a message from an old friend. He smiles.


End file.
